Rewritten
by absoluteleigh
Summary: A different story of Dawn and how she comes to be. Rewriting Dawn's history. Includes Angel Crossovers. My first fic! Ensemble with main focus on Dawn.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The girl runs faster and faster forgetting the pain she feels rushing throughout her body. She had to get away. They were coming for her.

Running through the untamed forest, thoughts scurry through her mind; mainly wondering how she was able to escape the restraint of the straight jacket. The strength seemed to rush into her body and she was able to break free from the constricted garment.

The moist ground squishes beneath her bare feet as she darts through the bushes and trees. Even as rain falls rapidly around her, she finds herself able to continue running. Suddenly, without warning, a horrifying pain encompasses her body as her feet slip out from underneath her. She falls to the ground with a loud plop.

The small girl momentarily loses focus of what is going on around her and looks over her shoulder. The men in white lab coats were still firmly on her trail, but at a further distance than before. Snapping back into reality, she pushes off from the ground and continues running.

Something isn't right. Her ankle snaps and pops with every step. _Have to keep going. They can't get me. Can't find me. _

The fear and panic finally begins to hit the small creature as she realizes there is nothing to run to. The soggy forest was a never ending maze of trees, branches, and thorns. But as if out of nowhere, a light appears. The light glimmers through fog so softly that the girl has a hard time believing that what she is seeing is really there. Finally, the light becomes crystal clear. Headlights.

"Help me! Please!" the girl screamed desperately. She runs toward the light and hears the sound of a car coming to life. The light zooms closer. Finally a man in an old fedora pulls around through the wood and pushes open the passenger side door.

"Get in!" a man with an Irish accent yells and the girl doesn't hesitate. The man takes off before the girl has time to slam her door.

After taking a moment to breathe, the girl looks behind her to see the white coats yelling and pulling walkie talkies from their pockets. Noticing the girl's alarm, the man taps her shoulder.

"Don't worry. We'll lose them," he says giving her a little smile. He turns off the lights and hits the pedal. "Get down. We'll be out of here in no time."

The small girl does as she's told. "Thank you," she breathes softly.


	2. A New Case

Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The dark haired man looks over the small girl curled up in his passenger seat carefully. She was petite with brunette hair. Her skin was the color of ivory. Except there were marks. The night sky was making it hard to distinguish what the marks were, but he could see that they were there. The most prominent ones were those around her fragile wrists.

After the driver had hit the highway, the girl allowed herself to crawl out of the floorboard and into the seat. She quietly fastened herself in and curled into herself. She was cold. The rain had thickly matted her thin, white hospital gown and pants to her skin. Mud from the ground was cool on her feet and was splattered on several spots of the dress. Her fingernails were dirty and moisture from her hair began to drip down her face. She could feel the hair on her arms beginning to stand up and goose bumps covering her flesh. The Irishman quickly caught onto this and turned the car heater onto its highest level.

He didn't say much to her after they drove out of the woods. He mostly just glanced her way every now and then. The way she was sitting, holding on to herself for dear life, made him uncomfortable. She looked straight ahead and didn't move. Didn't speak. He couldn't see her eyes. He felt awkward. He expected her to cry, scream, freak out, anything, but she just sat there hugging herself. If he had looked closer he would have noticed her fingernails digging into the sides of her arms. They sat in silence for another half an hour before the young girl finally spoke.

"Where are we going?" she asked just loudly enough for him to hear.

"Somewhere safe," he replied. She nodded slightly. The answer seemed good enough for now. He took one last glance at her as she slowly slid her head down against the window.

Twenty minutes later, the man slowly pulled into the grass lot behind the old building. He didn't want to wake her up, but he was afraid she would if he left the car. He didn't want her to come around alone and scared. He gently tapped her shoulder, which turned into a light shaking when she didn't respond. Her deep, heavy breathing indicated that she was sound asleep. Sighing somewhat impatiently, the man walked around to the other side of the car. He carefully opened the red side door so that her head wouldn't fall too far before he could catch her. The leather seatbelt helped hold her in place until he could get to her. He gently reached around her to unfasten her seatbelt. Her huddled position made it easy for him to slide his arm underneath her legs and behind her back. It worried him a little that she hadn't flinched or moved since he began to get her out of the car. Maybe she was just tired. Hopefully that's all it was.

He made his way up the couple flights of stairs that led to the furnished apartment. When he reached the door he lightly kicked it with the toe of his shoe. The door opened almost immediately and a tall, broad man appeared.

"Is this her?" the tall man asked. His eyes darted over the little girl. The Irishman nodded and made his way into the apartment.

"I couldn't get her to wake up. Need to check to make sure she's all right."

The tall man gestured to lie the girl down onto his bed. The girl's clothes were still wet and muddy. The dampness of the white garment was revealing her breasts. Somewhat embarrassed, he quickly turned his eyes away and tucked the little one into the thick bedspread.

"I couldn't see very well before, but she's got these marks on her arms. It's her wrists."

The tall man gently pulled down the comforter, careful not to reveal her again, and lightly pulled her right arm out. Her wrist was bleeding. He looked closer to discover that it wasn't a cut, but the skin had been rubbed raw and bled through. It looked bad, but nothing that couldn't be taken care of. The rest of her arm was covered in bruises, some blue, some purple. He tenderly pushed the sleeve of her hospital gown up to investigate her arm further when he saw a white plastic band. It read: **UCLA Medical Hospital; Psychiatrics** **10 023 41 772**.

"Doyle, call Cordelia and have her meet us. Tell her to bring some extra clothes," the tall man said.

Cordelia Chase walked up the stairs irritated. She didn't like being called in the middle of the night and most certainly didn't like being given orders. Particularly not by Doyle. And she really didn't like that he had asked her to bring some extra clothes. It's not like she had very many clothes anyway. She had sold many of her things when she first moved to LA to pay rent for her lousy apartment. It wasn't her fault that Doyle had these visions and it wasn't her fault that Angel had to save the world so why was it her responsibility to clothe the helpless?

She had grabbed a pair of ragged black sweatpants, a white zip up jacket, and a pair of stretched out sneakers that she used to go running in. _Just because you're helpless doesn't mean you have to be fashionable. Leave that to the people who deserve it!_

When she reached the door, she knocked once and then let herself in. She looked around the apartment and walked to the back until she found Angel and Doyle standing against the wall looking over a girl who was lying in his bed.

"Here, I brought what you asked," she said as she handed Doyle the pile of clothes. "So what's her story?"

"We don't know yet," Angel replied quietly. He stood still staring as he grazed his lips with his fingers. After a few moments he continued. "She hasn't woken up yet."

"Well until she does think we could do something _else?_" Cordelia said flatly. "I'm in dire need of a cappuccino."

Doyle scoffed at the brunette. _She is so gorgeous when she only thinks of herself. _He grinned.

"I need you to go to the hospital," Angel said, his eyes never leaving the sleeping girl.

"To the looney bin?" Doyle wasn't sure he wanted to go to the head capital for crazies in LA. Especially didn't want to get close to those white coat doctors with syringe filled pockets.

"I need you to take this," Angel said holding out the hospital bracelet he had cut off her wrist only moments before. "Go to the hospital and get as much information as you can. All we have is this ID number. No name, nothing. Be discreet and get whatever you can. Take Cordelia with you."

"What?!" Cordelia screeched. "Excuse me? I am NOT going anywhere. It's in the middle of the night! I have beauty rest to catch up on!"

Doyle took the bracelet and looked at it briefly before folding it and placing it in his jacket pocket. He grabbed Cordelia's wrist out of her pouty crossed-arm stance and pulled the protesting brunette out of the room. _Looks like we're spending the night at the psych ward._


	3. Psychiatric Investigations

**Chapter 2**

Angel sat. Angel paced. Angel waited. He went to his sitting area and read a couple chapters of a book be had started a few weeks ago. He took a walk down to the sewers only to turn around and walk back up to his apartment. He walked around it rearranging things that weren't out of place and dusting things that weren't dusty. He repeated these activities for hours and still nothing happened. The little girl in his bed hadn't woken up and Doyle and Cordelia had yet to return. Angel was jumping out of his skin. The sun had come up hours ago. He'd usually be asleep now, but this girl who was lying in his bed was more important than resting.

Doyle had said the vision he had of this girl was very vivid. After the images had sprawled through his mind, Doyle had fallen over in sweat and tremors. He tried to recount it immediately, but he was too overwhelmed to make coherent sentences. He was able to spout out the words, "blood," "girl," and "end." He was later able to tell them about the importance of the girl's safety. It was her life that would save the world. That's all Doyle was able to tell them other than the fact of where they would be able to find the girl. Running in a certain part of the woods.

Angel had finally been able to calm down enough to sit in one place for longer than five minutes. He leaned back on the couch and after a few minutes his eyes wearily closed and he fell into a light slumber.

The front doors to the hospital were locked. No one had really been thinking about visiting hours. Or that it was only three in the morning. Doyle suggested that they try to get access through the emergency room. It was a good idea and actually worked. They climbed the stairs to the top floor.

But access to the psychiatric ward of the UCLA Medical Center was not easily granted. Doyle and Cordelia expected to be able to walk up to the nurse's station and ask for information. But they had to get through the locked door with cameras on them. Doyle sighed as he attempted to think up another plan. He paced around in front of the door for a bit before Cordelia got really nervous.

"Doyle! There's a security guard coming over here!" Sure enough, a tall, balding man with a strong build was coming their way. He wore a walkie-talkie on his shoulder and he leaned in to make a command to another person on call. Doyle grabbed Cordelia by the arm and took off toward the nearest stairwell and flew down the steps. They barely made it out the door without being seen.

When they were safely away from the hospital building, Doyle pulled out his cell phone and made a quick call to a sleeping Angel.

"Yeah?" Angel answered groggily.

Doyle explained the situation. He sighed and dragged his hand over his face and then concentrated on his tired eyes. Angel told Doyle to call information and see when the hospital opened its doors to visitors.

"I knew that," Doyle said sheepishly.

Angel hung the phone up and stood up. He stretched his arms high into the air trying to escape the ache from sleeping on the couch. Satisfied after a few sharp cracks in his back, Angel walked back to his bedroom for the hundredth time that night. He stood closer to her sleeping form this time studying her closed eyes, light brown hair, and the faintest hint of freckles. There was something vaguely familiar about this girl. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He strode even closer now, walking softly on the hard wood floor. The sight of her wrists made him furrow his brow. They had all ready turned a darker shade of purple. He gingerly picked one up and examined further. He flipped her arm over a little and looked up and down her arm. The pin point red dots on her forearm surrounding her veins jumped out at him. This girl had been either giving a lot of blood or receiving a lot of medicine.

Because of his vampire nature, Angel could sense her heartbeat, but he placed his middle and index finger onto her pulse point just to be sure. After a short second, he pulled back as a shock of energy flew through him. Years of having a soul would probably never truly heal him of being a monster.

Her heartbeat was strong. Maybe she was just a heavy sleeper. Angel sighed and went back to the living area of his apartment to pace.

According to information, the psychiatric ward to the hospital was not open to visitors until one o'clock in the afternoon. It was going to be a long morning of waiting for Doyle. Cordelia on the other hand was quick to order Doyle to drive her home so she could rest. She complained the whole way home about compensation from Angel. Doyle could only laugh.

It was several hours later when Cordelia was impatiently tapping her sneaker clad foot against the linoleum floor. What were they supposed to do? They didn't know the girl's name so how were they supposed to even ask about her?

"What are we supposed to do, Doyle? This is pointless!" Cordelia huffed as she reached for the plastic ID bracelet from Doyle's hands. Twirling it around in fingers, Cordelia somewhat thought about a plan.

After a few moments of pacing around in front of the doors and mumbling things to themselves, a frizzy red-headed chubby nurse walked down the hall pushing a linen cart.

"Excuse me," the nurse said as she rolled by. She smiled at the couple and showed her metal covered teeth. Cordelia gave a somewhat sincere smile back even as she judged the poor girl in front of her. She was messy and Cordelia could tell that she had never had a date in her whole life. If Cordelia had been a nicer person she might have considered giving the girl a makeover.

The nurse fumbled with her electronic key card that was apparently stuck in one of the pockets of her scrub pants. The nurse had been studying them ever since she came down the hall. Doyle shifted nervously.

"Cordelia Chase!" the nurse finally exclaimed. Cordelia flung her head around at the sound of her name. "I can't believe it! Is it really you?"

Unsure, Cordelia smiled at the young nurse. "It's really me…" she trailed off with a slight laugh.

"It's me! Rachel Mannigan! We had 10th grade History together. I sat behind you!" Cordelia had no idea who this girl was, but she certainly wasn't going to show it. She decided to play along.

"Rachel! How are you? Goodness, I didn't recognize you! Have you lost weight?"

Rachel glowed bright red at the compliment and began to laugh almost insanely. Then she snorted. Cordelia nervously laughed along with her.

"Well, how are you?! What are you doing in Los Angeles? And here? At the mental ward?"

It was three hours later when Doyle finally returned to Angel's apartment. He banged on the door. When Angel opened it, he saw Doyle with a large cardboard box in his hands.

"What's in the box?" Angel asked.

"Apparently it's all of her stuff. Kinda a packrat, eh?" Doyle chuckled.

"Where's Cordelia?"

"They wouldn't let me into the ward. She ran into an old friend who was helping her get some information. Cordy's trying to get her file."

"Does she have a name?"

Doyle shifted and not so gracefully dropped the box on the floor. Opening the top of the box, he pulled out a sheet of paper.

"Katelyn Mitchell."


	4. Sleeping Beauty

Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_**Author's Note: I revised Chapter 2 so please go back and reread and review! Happy reading! **__****_

_It was three hours later when Doyle finally returned to Angel's apartment. He banged on the door. When Angel opened it, he saw Doyle with a large cardboard box in his hands._

_"What's in the box?" Angel asked._

_"Apparently it's all of her stuff. Kinda a packrat, eh?" Doyle chuckled._

_"Where's Cordelia?"_

_"They wouldn't let me into the ward. She ran into an old friend who was helping her get some information. Cordy's trying to get her file."_

_"Does she have a name?"_

_Doyle shifted and not so gracefully dropped the box on the floor. Opening the top of the box, he pulled out a sheet of paper._

_"Katelyn Mitchell."_

Angel started going through the items in the box. It looked like the girl liked to read as there were many books in the box. He drew them out one by one running his eyes over the titles. The Chronicles of Narnia, Through the Looking Glass, and an old beat up Beatles song book. Angel flipped through the music before setting it on the floor and reaching into the box again. He hissed as his hand skimmed over a piece of metal. He swore under his breath as peered into the box and saw the sterling silver rosary hanging on a beaded emerald chain. Angel pushed the box away in frustration and silently decided that he was finished going through the girl's belongings for now.

Doyle couldn't help repress a smile and also a look of sympathy for the vampire. He had no idea how hard it must be to be a vampire with a soul.

It was about this time when Angel and Doyle heard a loud thud from the bedroom.

Dreams filled the young girl's mind. White clouds and brightly shining sun hung in the sky. She lay in an ivory bed overflowed with white satin sheets. Her hair was flowered around her face in chestnut curls that fell over onto the silken pillows. There was a beautiful silver tiara that rested on her head. Her home was a tower covered in overgrown ivy and lilies that circled around the structure. There was no way into the room except for the solitary window that was built into the center. It was a prince in white armor that was to rescue her from this place. But many years went by and he did not come. The princess slept and slept until finally he came. But he was not dressed in white armor, but black. The sun obscured her view of his face. She felt him lean down as if to kiss her and wake her from this horrible place. It was then that reality unfolded again. The knight was not here to rescue her, but to kill her. The kiss that the knight was giving her was a kiss of death. Not on her lips, but a brutal piercing to her throat.

He had snuck in sometime before midnight and made his way around the place looking around for hiding spots for the jewel. He knew he had it here. It was only a matter of finding it. He hadn't been there for more than a few minutes before Angel came storming in and pacing about. He was quiet and stealthy, but this shouldn't have mattered. Angel had senses just like he did and should have picked him up right away. But obviously something else was on his mind. He was going to drive a bloody hole through his carpet.

Spike stood in the crevice in the corner of the wall and watched as the other vampire worry to death. Or undeath. Whatever the case may be for living dead folk. What the hell was he doing? Stupid nancy boy. Gonna get his soon.

There was a knock on the door and a lot of shuffling around. Spike couldn't see what was going on from where he was standing, but he didn't really care. He just wanted the bloody poof to move on so he could find his jewel. More shuffling and talking ensued with people coming in and out. Spike rolled his eyes in annoyance and finally the crowd left. Angel had retreated to the back room so Spike felt it was safe to make a getaway. He'd be back. He wasn't giving up that easy.

Cordelia sat in the nurse's station waiting for her long lost friend Rachel to come back with the file for the girl with the wrist band. She had been able to convince the redhead that she was part of an investigations team looking for answers for the "missing" girl. Cordelia was quite the liar, but Rachel was quite the idiot. She hung on every word that came out of Cordelia's mouth. Cordelia made sure Rachel didn't tell anyone about the file because it was a "confidential investigation." She wasn't sure either of them really knew what it meant. But it got the job done. Easiest gig the brunette ever had.

Once the document was secured in her hands, Cordelia bid the nurse a well played goodbye and thanked her once again for all her help.

"This is definitely means for a promotion."

Spike returned the next afternoon hoping to find Angel asleep. He had found a path in the sewer that led right up to his apartment.

"Predictable," Spike thought to himself.

Spike had some how managed to sneak in unbeknownst to Angel. He was still pacing around in his living room looking at his watch every few seconds. Spike retracted into the darkness of the crevice in the corner. Angel had to get out of the way sooner or later.

After waiting a couple of hours, there was another ruckus in the front of the apartment which gave Spike an opportunity to take another look around in the back. He slivered from his corner and silently walked to the bedroom. When he reached the door he smelled the flowing blood of young girl.

"My, my, what do we have here? A little sleeping beauty," he whispered to himself. It wasn't much of a surprise that the girl was so young. Angel had always been a cradle robber. He could smell him all over her. No doubt they'd had a go or two before she fell asleep in his bed. Her hair was long and layered around her face. The slightest flush of pink was splashed over her cheeks and matched her lips. She was a little thing, but very beautiful. Spike stepped up to take a closer look at her.

The beat of her heart was like music to his ears as it conducted the symphony of her surging blood stream. There were bruises on her and the occasional scratch and cut. What had this little bit been up to? He was intrigued. Maybe he could turn her and keep her as a pet. That idea intrigued him more. It was decided then.

Spike gently settled himself on the bed and pushed her soft hair back away from her face and neck. He lightly turned her head to the side to inspect her neck. It was ivory colored and the blue veins shone through brilliantly. He ran his cold fingers down the line of her throat. Spike felt his face vamp and he knew he was ready. He slowly bent down and bore his fangs into the girl.

Spike was amazed at how simple it was. This was most likely his easiest kill to date. He was a little disappointed that she wasn't struggling, but it was ok. Her blood was delicious, strong, and pure. He had been wrong about her and Angel. This little one was a virgin which made her all the more enticing. Spike became almost lost in his feeding when he felt a little squirm underneath him. Maybe this would be fun after all.

The girl's eyes flashed open only moments after the fangs pierced her throat. Panic filled her as she attempted to resist against the hard body that lay atop of her. What was happening? What were the doctors doing to her now?

"No!" she whispered. Her voice was hoarse and ragged. "No more needles! Please! Stop! No!"

Spike laughed wickedly as he pulled his fangs from her.

"There, there Little Bit. Don't be afraid. Daddy's here to protect you," he said laughing again. He moved to look at her face. Bright green eyes stared back at him with fear. He could smell it all over her. He filled with delight.

When she saw his face she immediately sprang forward in the bed to escape him. But Spike was too fast and he countered her actions. Grabbing at her swollen wrists, he pushed her down and held her to the bed. He used one hand to hold both wrists and moved the other to caress her face.

The girl twisted and fought as hard as she could to release herself from his grasp, but he only squeezed her tighter eliciting a moan of pain from her lips. But then by some miracle his seize of her wrists released and his hand fell away from her face.

"What the…" he barely managed before falling hard to the floor.


	5. The Box of Truths

**The Box of Truths **

Angel leapt to his feet from the floor and sped into the bedroom in lightning speed. He had heard the thud almost before it happened. It was only then that his vampire senses seemed to jump into effect. He smelled the fear and suddenly the presence of another vampire. A very…very familiar vampire.

He wasn't surprised when he found Spike on the floor. Could smell him a mile away. At least…he could had he been paying closer attention. And then there was the girl he knew only as Katelyn. No longer sleeping peacefully, but sitting up in bed with her left hand held to her throat and wide green eyes. Angel's first thought was to rush to her and see if she was alright. Afraid he would frighten her more, he stayed put and looked her over. He could see the trail of blood trickling from her fresh wound, but didn't smell enough of it to be a concern. He waited a moment more before she finally turned her head to face him.

Angel was dumfounded. He didn't know what to say.

"Are you ok?" he breathed. He immediately felt stupid. Of course she wasn't ok. She had just escaped from a mental institution and not two days later a vampire had attacked her. She was probably unsure if this was reality.

Katelyn slowly removed her hand from her neck and looked at her fingers. They were sticky with blood. She held up her hand to Angel. He slowly came towards her to inspect them.

"Don't worry," he said assuring her, "this is an easy fix." She looked at Angel briefly before turning her scared eyes down to the unconscious vampire. Angel froze. He didn't know what to say. He tried to think of something that would be logical and reasonable. For some reason the only thing he could think of was gang members on PCP.

"He's a…" Angel began but was cut off abruptly.

"Vampire," she finished for him without emotion. Angel looked at the girl who was no longer focused on Spike or on him. She wasn't really focused on anything. She was staring blankly at the wall.

Angel was perplexed. Most people, who weren't in this not so small circle of vampire knowledge, still believed that vampires were mythical creatures. Apparently this girl knew that vampires were real. But she had been in a mental institution. What she really believed was unclear at this moment so Angel decided to move away as quickly from this topic as he could.

"Like you," she breathed again softly. This time she _was_ looking at Angel. Her eyes were no longer blank, but had a knowing gaze that made Angel uncomfortable. Angel shifted his gaze away from this little girl and continued to examine her neck.

"Doyle," he called into the other room. "Get me the first aid kit." Katelyn looked up as the dark haired man peeked in the room and quickly ducked out to do as he was told. He was back in moments and Angel hurriedly patched up the wound on her neck.

"How do you feel?"

She shrugged.

"Do you want to rest some more?"

She nodded slightly.

"All right. We'll get this guy out of here and let you sleep. Do you need anything?"

"Not right now," she barely whispered. Angel nodded and gestured for Doyle to help him pick Spike up off the floor. They got him up and took him into the other room. After settling him in a chair and tying him up proper, Angel went back to check on Katelyn one last time before he let her be. She was already sleeping again.

"So who's this guy, Angel?" Doyle asked. Angel paced in front of the still unconscious Spike.

"His name's Spike. He's…an old acquaintance of mine."

"Well, doesn't look like he's going to be waking up anytime soon. Wonder what happened to him?"

"Don't know. "

"Not dust so I'm assumin' he's not dead."

Angel ignored the last comment and glanced back over to the box. He had to figure out what was going on with this girl. He walked over and crouched down in front of the box again. Not taking any chances this time, he immediately turned it over and dumped all the contents out. Books, books, and more books. He went through more titles. Many more children's books. The Holy Bible. Angel scrunched his eye brows. There were a few other beat up music books. Most of them were for classical music and then there was another book that had the title "Best of Broadway" written on it. When he finally sorted through all of the books, he found a wooden box. It was a jewelry box. Hand crafted by the looks of it. He twirled it around in his hands for a few moments admiring the craftsmanship. It was made of cherry wood and had little stained glass designs on the top. He opened it up. It had the green velvet lining the different compartments inside. But his attention was quickly diverted from the workings of the box. He was looking at the two very familiar pieces of jewelry that were stored there.

Another cross. It was a plain silver chain with a plain silver crucifix on it. He knew it well as the same cross had been engraved in his skin years ago. The other piece of jewelry was a ring. It was the silver Claddagh ring he had given to Buffy.

Angel became outraged. He gripped the box in his hands as hard as he could until he felt the wood snap between his fingers. Who was this girl? Why did she have Buffy's things? _His_ things. Things _he_ had given to _Buffy_. He wouldn't stand for this. What was she doing? Had she hurt Buffy?

Angel stormed into his bedroom and grabbed the girl up with great force. She awoke panicked and thrashing about as Angel gripped at her shoulders and violently shook her. Her right arm felt hot. She looked down and noticed Angel's hand was steaming. Angel was gripping onto the silver cross not even caring about the pain.

Angel shook her and violently let her go.

"Where did you get these?!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

She looked at him petrified. She shook her head as if she didn't know what he meant.

Angel held the cross out in front of her face in one hand and the ring in the other.

"Where. Did. You. Get. These?!" he yelled again at an even louder dynamic. Angel reached out and shook her again.

"Tell me!" he screamed once more.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she shouted as she burst into a sob. She panted deep heavy breaths that didn't seem to make it into her lungs.

At this answer, Angel ripped the girl out of the bed by her arms and threw her into the wall knocking over the lamp on his bedside table. He held her there infuriated.

Doyle had been slightly distracted looking curiously through Katelyn's assortment of books. It wasn't until he heard the crash of the lamp that he came bursting into the room.

"Angel! What are you doing mate? Put her down! You're gonna hurt the lass!"

"Tell me where you got these right now or I swear you'll never live to say another word." Angel's voice was low and deep and terrified her to her core. What had she done to make him so angry?

She struggled to catch her breath and the way he was holding her to the wall wasn't making it any easier. His grip on her arms grew tighter and tighter. She closed her eyes willing for the air to come. She said a silent prayer. But when she opened her eyes, the man in front of her had turned into a monster.

"No," she breathed as the tears streamed down her face.

"Yes," he said. "I won't ask you again. Tell me. _Now_."

She broke into a fresh sob.

"Angel!" Doyle screamed again. This time he tried to break the girl free from Angel's grip. But the only reward he received was the not so gentle kick to the stomach from Angel.

"Please," she begged, "let me go!"

"Tell me what I want to know!" He slammed her against the wall one more time.

"Angel!" A different voice broke through the chaos. "Angel! Let her go! She's Buffy's sister!" Cordelia yelled as she held up the medical file.


	6. Sister

The girl Doyle had envisioned wasn't just a random person Angel was supposed to help, but Buffy's little sister. Angel had heard very little about her. Buffy didn't like to talk about it. The only thing she ever really said was that she was in a mental institution back where they used to live. He couldn't believe this was the same girl.

Her name wasn't even Katelyn Mitchell, it was Dawn Summers. Dawn Elizabeth Summers. Born June 13th, 1985. She had been admitted when she was only ten years old. According to her file, her parents had taken her to see a psychiatrist after she started screaming about monsters. She had stopped sleeping and stayed in a near panic at almost all times. Her parents had taken her to a therapist briefly before they decided her best bet was hospitalization. The lists of medications she was on baffled Angel. He wasn't a doctor, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that these amount of drugs could kill a person.

Frustrated, Angel slammed the file down on the coffee table and furiously rubbed his hands over his eyes. Not only did he have this girl to worry about, but now Spike was here causing trouble. He'd have to figure that one out as well. But for now, the bleached vamp was passed out, tied to a chair in his living room. How had that happened?

Cordy had gone to the bedroom to sit with Dawn. Angel had shook the poor girl up quite a bit and with good reason. He could have killed her. Doyle had decided to sit in the kitchen and give Angel his space. After a little while, Cordelia came back out of the bedroom and joined Angel in the living room.

"She went back to sleep," she said.

"Is she ok?"

"Well, she's pretty freaked out, but she's going to be ok I think. She said Buffy gave her those things."

Angel was disgusted with himself. He hadn't been that out of control since Angelus was in town. Buffy was certainly a sore spot for him, even now. He hoped he'd be able to apologize to Dawn somehow.

"I didn't mean to do that," he said.

"I think she knows that," Cordelia assured him. "She said she knows who you are. Buffy told her all about you."

Angel hoped there were things that Buffy hadn't told Dawn about him. How was he going to help her if she thought he was a monster?

"I tried to tell her that we're here to help her. She asked how we knew where she was. I didn't really know how to tell her that part. But she said she'd talk to you in the morning."

Dawn was happy to be alone again. It had been a really eventful 24 hours. She had managed to get away from the hospital, but now found herself in the home of a vampire. Buffy's vampire. She had remembered the last time she had seen her sister. It had been about two years ago. Of course, Dawn had been so drugged up that she couldn't speak, but she could hear her sister. Buffy had sat with her and held her hand and told her she was sorry it had been so long since she had come to see her. She told her she had met someone and had been really happy for a little while. But then he…changed. He wasn't he same person anymore. Buffy told Dawn about her Angel and things they had done together. Buffy had started crying after a little while. Dawn wished that she could have talked to her sister, to hug her, but she couldn't. She was in restraints with two ivs in her arms. Buffy had brought something for her. She said she wanted Dawn to keep it for her. She opened a pretty wooden box that held two pieces of jewelry. One was a pretty silver chain with a crucifix on it. The other was a silver ring. Buffy told her what the ring meant. She put it on Dawn's finger and told her to hold on to it for her. She clasped the necklace around her neck and told her it would keep her safe. Angel had given it to her and now she wanted Dawn to have it. Dawn had been so happy with the presents her sister had brought, but she knew that after Buffy left, the nurses would take them away. But at least she would have them for a little while. Buffy squeezed her sister's hand one last time and brushed her hair away from her forehead so she could give her a kiss.

"I love you, Dawn," she said as she turned to leave. That would be the last time she would see her sister for nearly two years.

Dawn shook the memory away and closed her eyes. Hopefully she would rest easy for the night.


End file.
